As I sit here now, the only things left from my 12 years with my husband are a small plot of land we bought with plans to build, my two children, and the car my neighbor helped me protect. I didn’t fully know the family I married into until the day my husband passed.
And now, as I grieve, I’m not sure if my tears are for my husband or the family that hurt and betrayed me so deeply. But one thing I know: despite the pain, I will rise.
